people.”
Jahrra wondered how they’d managed to make all these accommodations in such a short amount of time but when she thought about it, she and Jaax had remained near the Oak Tree a good thirty minutes before slowly following after the villagers. The part of her mind that still tried to stay focused told her everyone was making an unnecessary fuss on her account. She tried to tell them that but her voice seemed to have lost itself somewhere.
Someone laid her out on the bed, removed her boots, and draped a quilt over her. Once completely still and no longer on her feet, Jahrra didn’t remember hearing much save for the murmur of incoherent voices, punctuated every now and again by Jaax’s distinctive complaints and demands. After that, it was all darkness and peace.
***
When Jahrra woke, it was well after dark. A low fire burned in the hearth but the small cabin was otherwise dark. Sitting up, she clutched her head. It ached and pounded from the dream she’d had about the Tanaan prince and the fall of his people. It hadn’t been a very long dream but towards its end she recalled feeling the weight of a hand on her shoulder. She hadn’t realized she had been standing on a hilltop, watching the battle unfold before her until she felt that presence. Turning to see who had joined her, Jahrra nearly collapsed in relief when she realized it was her green cloaked friend, hood drawn and face hidden as usual. She remembered smiling in the dream, glad that he hadn’t been chased away for good. After that the terrible scene before her faded away and she woke up.
Now that she was awake and the dream was fading into memory, she pressed her fingers against her temples in an attempt to chase away the headache then looked around. Why was she in this small house? How had she arrived here? Where was Jaax and Phrym? Then it hit her. Swallowing a groan, Jahrra fell back against the mattress. Perhaps it hadn’t been a dream, but a reality. The villagers had taken her up to the Sacred Oak of Ethoes and something had happened.
The faint sound of the door opening made Jahrra bolt upright. She clutched her head again and gritted her teeth. Those had been some powerful images indeed.
When the spinning ceased, Jahrra tried focusing on her visitor. She was a woman, several years older than herself, but not quite as old as Thenya. She gave a pretty smile and pulled nervously at her soft brown hair. Jahrra felt the anxiety melt from her bones.
“Forgive me, young miss. I came to check on you,” she said in a kind voice. “I’m Athon’s wife, Nelliah, and was asked to come see if you’d like to join the rest of the village outside.”
Jahrra blushed slightly. She was still fully dressed, except her boots were missing, and someone had draped a quilt over her. From the looks of the sheets on the bed it was quite obvious she had had a restless sleep. She wished she could at least remake the bed before joining the others.
“Oh,” she finally managed, “I’d love to. Just let me find my boots and tidy up here.”
“No, don’t you dare worry yourself,” Nelliah waved her arms in dismissal and stepped forward, fetching Jahrra’s boots from the hearth.
Jahrra flushed again. She hated all this special treatment and despite Nelliah’s protests, she made the bed to the best of her ability before following her out into the night.
The air was cold and clear and Jahrra felt grateful, for it took a bit of the pain from her head away. Nelliah led her past several neighboring huts that boasted the familiar wood pole pens full of sleeping animals. It was dark but she recognized the great bonfire burning in the center of the village several feet away. As they walked, Jahrra listened to the hearty murmur of voices far ahead. The sounds were cheerful and she even detected the melody of a flute. Above her, the black sky housed a thousand or more glittering stars which blinked in and out of sight as they passed under the branches of trees.
Jahrra wondered how they’d managed to make all these accommodations in such a short amount of time but when she thought about it, she and Jaax had remained near the Oak Tree a good thirty minutes before slowly following after the villagers. The part of her mind that still tried to stay focused told her everyone was making an unnecessary fuss on her account. She tried to tell them that but her voice seemed to have lost itself somewhere.
Someone laid her out on the bed, removed her boots, and draped a quilt over her. Once completely still and no longer on her feet, Jahrra didn’t remember hearing much save for the murmur of incoherent voices, punctuated every now and again by Jaax’s distinctive complaints and demands. After that, it was all darkness and peace.
***
When Jahrra woke, it was well after dark. A low fire burned in the hearth but the small cabin was otherwise dark. Sitting up, she clutched her head. It ached and pounded from the dream she’d had about the Tanaan prince and the fall of his people. It hadn’t been a very long dream but towards its end she recalled feeling the weight of a hand on her shoulder. She hadn’t realized she had been standing on a hilltop, watching the battle unfold before her until she felt that presence. Turning to see who had joined her, Jahrra nearly collapsed in relief when she realized it was her green cloaked friend, hood drawn and face hidden as usual. She remembered smiling in the dream, glad that he hadn’t been chased away for good. After that the terrible scene before her faded away and she woke up.
Now that she was awake and the dream was fading into memory, she pressed her fingers against her temples in an attempt to chase away the headache then looked around. Why was she in this small house? How had she arrived here? Where was Jaax and Phrym? Then it hit her. Swallowing a groan, Jahrra fell back against the mattress. Perhaps it hadn’t been a dream, but a reality. The villagers had taken her up to the Sacred Oak of Ethoes and something had happened.
The faint sound of the door opening made Jahrra bolt upright. She clutched her head again and gritted her teeth. Those had been some powerful images indeed.
When the spinning ceased, Jahrra tried focusing on her visitor. She was a woman, several years older than herself, but not quite as old as Thenya. She gave a pretty smile and pulled nervously at her soft brown hair. Jahrra felt the anxiety melt from her bones.
“Forgive me, young miss. I came to check on you,” she said in a kind voice. “I’m Athon’s wife, Nelliah, and was asked to come see if you’d like to join the rest of the village outside.”
Jahrra blushed slightly. She was still fully dressed, except her boots were missing, and someone had draped a quilt over her. From the looks of the sheets on the bed it was quite obvious she had had a restless sleep. She wished she could at least remake the bed before joining the others.
“Oh,” she finally managed, “I’d love to. Just let me find my boots and tidy up here.”
“No, don’t you dare worry yourself,” Nelliah waved her arms in dismissal and stepped forward, fetching Jahrra’s boots from the hearth.
Jahrra flushed again. She hated all this special treatment and despite Nelliah’s protests, she made the bed to the best of her ability before following her out into the night.
The air was cold and clear and Jahrra felt grateful, for it took a bit of the pain from her head away. Nelliah led her past several neighboring huts that boasted the familiar wood pole pens full of sleeping animals. It was dark but she recognized the great bonfire burning in the center of the village several feet away. As they walked, Jahrra listened to the hearty murmur of voices far ahead. The sounds were cheerful and she even detected the melody of a flute. Above her, the black sky housed a thousand or more glittering stars which blinked in and out of sight as they passed under the branches of trees.
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